Snapshots
by HayashiOkami
Summary: A glimpse of the Seirin basketball team through the lenses and photographs of an outsider. Also, we get slightly sidetracked, courtesy of the stressed high school student providing these snapshots for your entertainment.
1. photography

**Snapshots**

_A quick note from the author: this series of short one-shots is narrated by a third person party, so the main characters from Kuroko no Basuke might not be featured directly._

* * *

The crowd cheers and he misses the shot, too fixated by the game to press the button on the sleek black camera that belongs to the Photography Club. He still isn't used to snapping pictures on the spot, especially during high action events, such as sports. If he had a choice, he would much rather focus on the game as it progresses, recall the details later, and reproduce them in a picture with pen and paper.

For people like Natsume, such a thing isn't impossible to accomplish as long as they concentrate on their surroundings. Dejected that he has to settle for the camera, thereby missing subtle and probably important parts of the game, he lowers his gaze again to the wide screen on the device's surface. It doesn't matter that he isn't particularly athletic himself; he still appreciates the efforts of the players.

Their fledgling club is just lucky that all of their sports teams are fairly strong, for a newly opened school. The Photography Club often collaborates with the Newspaper Club, taking photos for them at various events throughout the year. Natsume just happened to be assigned their school's basketball team for this season, along with a few other first years and their senpai. It doesn't really bother him that he is constantly running from location to location to take pictures of each event.

He needs something to keep him occupied these days, after all. The longer he stays away from home, the better, so he always volunteers to attend the games. He still isn't very good at taking pictures at all the right angles, although his hands are notoriously steady. It's just another thing people envy him for, he supposes.

Only practice will make perfect, or so the saying goes.

If he had a choice, Natsume wouldn't ever perfect the art of photography. He is alright with staying mediocre, but knows that he will eventually advance. He was always very good at anything that had to do with art, so getting used to compositions shouldn't be too hard for him. It's only a matter of experimenting and looking at pictures with the correct angles and lighting.

Their school is losing against a very strong opponent, so he knows that their photos won't go to waste. The student newspaper will publish an article about the event, twisting their words so that people focus more on the valiant fight their school's basketball team put up than their loss. Their team is also full of skilled players, but in sports, one team always has to win.

Natsume thinks that he would like to draw them later - the players on the court, regardless of their team - but knows that he probably shouldn't. He joined the Photography Club to stop drawing so much, but in retrospect it probably only makes matters worse. He breathes a frustrated sigh that clouds up the camera's screen momentarily.

"Hey, Natsume, pay attention!" shouts his senpai, a second year who invited him into the club. Natsume frowns; the other boy is always critical of his work, but he supposes that he is a decent senpai in the end. He nods in response, bowing his head apologetically. "Look, I know we're losing, but the game's really heating up now."

Not that any of his pictures will be published, although they might decide to select one or two if they make for good prints to be featured in a calendar that the Photography Club sells every New Year's. He thinks that he should be happy that his work isn't yet good enough, that he has much to learn, but it makes his heart ache a bit. He is too accustomed to excelling in artistic venues, if nothing else.

Natsume isn't very knowledgeable about the various positions that the players assume, but he focuses on the area of the court he was assigned. A second year and another first year are also covering the same area, so that nothing will be missed. He supposes that it is a bit of an honor to be allowed to focus on the area directly in front of the hoop, but knows that this is also due, in part, to his own merits.

Even though he doesn't really have a sense for angles, Natsume is still better than the other first years at capturing lighting, and so he is allowed to take pictures of here.

No matter how hard their team tries, the opponents are just too strong. Their star player moves with such power and speed that the camera often can't catch his movements. Natsume's hands twitch, because he knows that his eyes can remember the scene faster and with much more clarity than the camera can, but he is limited to the stupid device that can't follow the twisting, speedy plays.

He frowns and adjusts his body, tapping the zoom button to focus on the two players battling it out on the court. From the stands, the overhead lights interfere with many shots, a glare always present from the opposite side of the stadium. It strains his hands and arms to position the camera properly so that none of that glare will reflect off the players in a negative way.

Their team is putting up a good fight. The Photography and Newspaper Clubs will probably take a comment or two from them later, but Natsume isn't so sure he will stay. He doesn't really have a reason to, when his senpai can take care of it. Still, he thinks that he will at least congratulate the players with his club before he goes.

They are in the fourth quarter and Natsume is pretty sure his school's team is at its limit. It's beyond comprehension, the amount of skill and natural talent they both have even if their school is losing quite badly at this point, but to some extent, Natsume can understand that.

Still, he thinks that he will draw them later, even if no one but him will ever see it.

And after all that, their school loses, but he guesses that it isn't so bad. Natsume turns off the camera and lowers it. He has never possessed the brutality of a reporter intent on catching every minute second of an event, and so he doesn't think it's right to take pictures of their team when they are down. Those pictures won't be featured in anything, anyways, so he doesn't see the point.

The match is over and Natsume is trailing behind his senpai. Some of the other first years have already left; they will return the cameras to the club room the next time they have school.

Natsume is shifting through the pictures he took to avoid appearing awkward as he stands behind his senpai, who are meeting up with the Newspaper Club to briefly talk to the players. It's never easy to overlook Natsume, given his height, but sometimes it works if the others are too occupied in what they are doing to care. He would rather it be that way.

He sees that he has taken some decent shots and some disappointing ones, and tries to convince himself that this is what he wants. No one likes a person who is perfect and never fails, after all. His second year senpai nudges him and motions to the camera perched in his hands. Natsume hands it over.

"You didn't take that many," he says disappointingly, to which Natsume shrugs as he takes the device back.

"That one guy was moving too fast for the camera to pick it up. Besides, I wanted to watch it, too," Natsume shrugs uncomfortably.

They don't keep the players long. They are exhausted and probably want to clean up and go home. Natsume lingers in the back, politely speaking with another first year who lightly jokes with him that Natsume has the build to play sports - something like basketball or volleyball.

Natsume exhales an embarrassed chuckle and shakes his head sheepishly.

"Me? Oh, no, I'm not athletic at all. I'm actually very clumsy, you know. I always trip over my feet when I run," he says. It's true. Anyone who shares a gym class with him knows this. "I'm just an observer."

He is already debating over which scene he should draw, his hands itching to hold a pencil, a brush, anything. It has been too long and he knows that he will have to practice in order to produce something that is worth the quality of a print. He thinks of which medium to select, how he will add color and life into the players. He already knows that he will select one of those impossible moves to draw - the ones that the camera couldn't keep up with. Somehow, he will find out how to make _their _player shine even though his efforts were for naught.

Briefly, he wonders who will look at the finished product, who will appreciate it, and who will envy him for it. Natsume always wonders these things, but every time he does, he immediately knows all the answers.

With a sigh that no one hears over the clamor of spectators leaving the stadium, Natsume waves goodbye to the others and leaves. Maybe things will be better for them after the summer break.

He thinks that he will follow their progress in the next tournament, which is unusual for him. Natsume is that person who will know when the art museums are changing their exhibits, but not when his school's sports teams are playing in such-and-such tournaments. He is kind of interested, not because he particularly likes sports or finds basketball photogenic, but because he saw how hard they tried.

This upcoming semester, though, he has been assigned the kendo team. He isn't quite sure how that will turn out, except that it will probably be much easier to take pictures of than basketball.

* * *

I'll probably only add on another chapter or so unless people like this for some weird reason. I know some tend to stray away from OC stories, but I don't want to butcher the KuroBasu cast. I'm still not familiar with them, since I only discovered this awesome fandom a few weeks ago by chance. I'm also trying out a new writing style, so sorry if it sounds a bit forced.

This guy featured here is Natsume Seiichi, some weird art freak who happens to have a photographic memory. Because of this, he tends to experience more grief than praise these days and is often troubled by it.

I know his name has the same "sei" as "Seijuro", but trust me when I say that I couldn't find any other name that works with Natsume that hasn't already been taken (like Natsume Takashi from _Natsume's Book of Friends_). His "prototype" name was Natsume Ryo, but that is also too close to Ryouta.


	2. don't fall

**Snapshots**

* * *

If not for the white banners that stretch across the stands with bold lettering that spells out the tournament's name, Natsume would have no clue that he is in the arena hosting the Winter Cup. But now that he has seen them, lightly shifting in place from an unseen breeze, he won't forget it. His senpai must have told him the name a thousand times, gently chastising him each time for his forgetfulness, but in truth Natsume's impeccable memory only applies to things he has seen.

He isn't a genius or a prodigy or whatever, he always tries to argue. He doesn't want that title, doesn't want people to be jealous of him over it. _Take it. I don't need it._

"Wait, I have no clue what's happening! Which goal is our school's, again?" the boy beside him sputters, shaking Natsume's shoulder with one hand despite his efforts to shake his senpai off. He can't take pictures like this.

"It's the one on the left." Natsume slowly detaches the older boy's hand from his arm and moves out of the seat to the ledge, straightening the camera clutched in his hands. "I don't really know much about basketball, either. I just take the pictures."

He can sense the frown directed at him, but ignores it to concentrate on the beginning of the game. It's the first match for their school in the preliminaries of the Winter Cup. There's a new addition to their team, although Natsume doesn't know his name.

The arena is huge, so this time everyone who came from the Photography Club are just catching what photographs they can manage from wherever in the stands they ended up. The cameras, however, have a fairly strong magnification, so it isn't much of a problem.

For a time, their school isn't doing so well, which is rather surprising. One of their star members - a first year whose name slips Natsume's memory - is completely trapped on the court, surrounded by the other team. He fumes in frustration that is apparent even from up in the stands.

"Natsume-kun-"

"Our school's colors are white, black, and red, Fujiwara-san." Natsume's lips twitch upwards in a smile despite himself. Even if he tries to express his slight annoyance, it's always hard for him to do so. Besides, Fujiwara Haruo isn't an easy person to grow angry towards. He's far too much like Natsume on a good day for him to really be mad at the upperclassman.

Natsume met Fujiwara when he was taking pictures of the school's kendo team. Although he doesn't really filter his words before he speaks and gets too excited over small things, Natsume can say that he has finally found someone he can be around without anxiety constantly assaulting him. It's easy to talk to Fujiwara, because unlike most others he doesn't expect anything of Natsume and doesn't truly envy him.

Even though Fujiwara is (_was, he thinks morosely_) one of the strongest, most talented kendo players, he is clueless when it comes to all other sports. When he found out that Natsume had to attend the Winter Cup to take photographs of their school's basketball team, he gladly invited himself along despite the glaringly obvious fact that he knows nothing about it.

"I don't really get all of it, but this is pretty fun!" Fujiwara declares as they watch the game. One of their players finally made a shot - Natsume thinks it is the captain - and unlike the past season, their defense is much stronger. Natsume doesn't really know much about basketball, either, but he's picked up enough from the commentators and people around him to know something.

So, this new player is a big deal for them, and he's a fairly tall guy. Natsume spends a moment to just sit back and watch the game unfold, holding the camera limply in his hands. He can relax now that one of his senpai isn't hovering over his shoulder, barking orders down his neck. Maybe it doesn't make much sense to him now, but if he remembers it and dissects it later, he might be able to see how everyone in the stands is getting so excited over this.

"I have to admit; this is a bit more exciting to watch than kendo," Fujiwara says with a breathless chuckle, but Natsume simultaneously narrows his eyes and casts him a wry smile. Kendo was a little boring to watch and hard to keep up with, especially with a camera. It's probably fun for those participating, though. You can't see the players' eyes when they fight, but it's easy to tell from their spirited shouts and Fujiwara's wide grins when he takes the helmet off.

However, Fujiwara isn't breathless because he's been cheering the whole time. He has been rather quiet, perhaps self-conscious in this large, anonymous stadium because this is not where he belongs. He watches the game with shining, awestruck eyes, but that is only to distract him from the white bandages wrapped around his neck, peeking out from underneath the collar of his uniform.

Natsume finds himself hoping, perhaps even praying, that none of their players gets injured. He doesn't know any of them except in passing. He thinks he has one of the first years that is on the bench in his class, but can't be certain. It really doesn't matter, though, he has found out. Injuries were never something he really feared, especially not for another person, until he met Fujiwara.

Fujiwara is talented in kendo and practices hard every day with his team. He was their last resort in every match, the last player on the lineup to cover for his teammates' inexperience. Even though he is a second year, he can match up against third years quite well.

But in all sports, there is always a risk. Kendo tries to minimize it through heavy armor, complete with full wired face masks, but even then players sometimes get injured. That is why Natsume now finds himself cringing as he watches the game on the court play out. It's easy to get hurt - just as easy as it is for him to acquire a paper cut.

He heard (and is surprised that he remembers this) that some talented player in the finals of the last tournament actually collapsed and couldn't rise at the end of the game. It makes him wonder about things. Natsume has always concealed himself from others, hiding in his own world of pastels and watercolors and graphite, wrapped in a cocoon of things he knows, things that can't physically hurt him.

He glances at Fujiwara and back at the players on the court making a comeback. _Don't fall,_ he thinks.

* * *

- For some reason, people seem to like this? I'm sorry it's so passive and doesn't actually feature the KuroBasu characters much.

- So, are there any moments you would like to see of the Seirin team at school? This is the match against Josei, and I'm not sure if I'll feature the one against Shutoku, so I'd like to make a "snapshot" for them at school in between. Maybe I can actually have some of the KuroBasu characters talk, then.

- Usually, people with a photographic/eidetic memory have it for one area. So while Natsume can remember things that he has seen just once before, his memory when it comes to listening is just like a normal person's, if not worse. I imagine that with a photographic memory, he's also good at compartmentalizing.

- I promise, that extra character has a purpose.


	3. playing fair

**Snapshots**

* * *

This game makes his heart beat uncomfortably fast and hard in his chest. He isn't sure how Fujiwara feels, as the boy is remarkably good at hiding his emotions when it concerns his vulnerabilities. For once, Natsume wishes that one of his senpai _was_ over his shoulder, telling him what he could and could not take pictures of. Should he take pictures of the fouls, even if they won't be useful to the newspaper?

Natsume knows that he isn't mistaken. Other people's eyes might deceive them, but his don't; he can see perfectly the images of sneakers stepping on top of other sneakers, of players' startled faces when they realize that they can't move. He sees other things, too and begins to worry again. They might get injured playing like that - playing unfairly.

That was, after all, what had completely banned Fujiwara from ever playing kendo competitively again.

But this team is strong, he hopes, he _knows_ - he can see it on their faces when they score, when they gather and shout encouragement to each other. They're the stubborn type that don't give up even when the entire world looks down on their efforts and laughs in their faces. And Natsume kind of admires them for that.

_That's what it's like to belong to something, _he thinks with a small smile. And this is one of those rare instances in his sixteen years of life where he can look upon it and say fondly: _I will never forget this moment._ It doesn't matter that Natsume will never find something fulfilling like that, a comradeship like that, because he thinks that he now knows its meaning just by watching.

That's what an artist does, anyways. An artist observes and records the world around him in paints and pencils and whatever's convenient, always separated from that beauty, always isolated. It is a lonely life, and he has always known that.

He watches and leaves his camera in his lap.

Two of the players fall and he winces as a third begins to descend as well, and feels Fujiwara's even harsher flinch when blood begins to gush out of the stricken player's head. Perhaps he is remembering unpleasant memories that he cannot forget, either. Natsume turns to him with a tilt of his head, the only consolation he can provide.

"I hate it when people play unfairly like that, by hurting others. I _hate _it," Fujiwara spats. His hand unconsciously drifts up to his neck, his fingers brushing against the bandages against his throat. He still can't remove them, apparently. There must be a flaming, angry bruise resting below that thin layer of fabric. Natsume wonders if it still hurts, but then he corrects himself.

Of course it hurts. It will always hurt, even after the bruise has long since faded.

Natsume didn't actually meet Fujiwara formally until after the match, when he decided of his own strange accord to visit him in the hospital. In retrospect, it wasn't something he decided on a whim; he was really being selfish, trying to avoid returning home after school for as long as possible.

Although he was initially confused, Fujiwara later welcomed him in with a smile, because that was all he could offer. He typed his responses on his cellphone and presented it to whoever he was speaking to at the moment.

"_The doctor doesn't want him to speak for a while, just in case something was damaged. He doesn't want him to aggravate anything by talking or getting worked up, either. You, um, don't know much about kendo, right? Well, in kendo, there's a perfectly viable move called a thrust. It aims at the opponent's neck. I'm sure you can imagine what that would do if the sword was real._

_"The inexperienced are forbidden to use it during practice or official matches. It can seriously hurt your opponent. We've all learned the motions of it, of course, but Fujiwara-kun just wasn't expecting something like that to show up in a high school competition. That third year was disqualified, so we won by default, but that's not what's important._

_"I'm sure you saw, if you were there…after Fujiwara-kun got hit, he collapsed and started coughing up blood. He's never really explained it in detail and we never thought to ask, since he always seems to be fine, but Fujiwara-kun actually has a weak constitution. Apparently, it's a lot worse than just getting sick often."_

Later, when the boy recovered and was discharged from the hospital, he told Natsume with a sad, wistful smile, "I can't play kendo ever again."

Natsume refocuses on the game, pushing the image of that smile out of his head. The teams are switching out members, a smaller boy with the number eleven on his jersey walking onto the court. Natsume frowns for a moment. It's always incredibly hard to find that player when he's on the court, and equally easy to forget about him.

It's kinda embarrassing when his friends in the Photography Club talk about the game afterwards and he seriously can't remember where that boy was during most of the game unless he concentrates. He has never seen him around school, either, but it's more likely that he has just never noticed him.

"What - how did he do that?" Fujiwara exclaims just as their school's team scores. Natsume narrows his eyes at the small boy with the light blue hair, who had pulled some strange move in order to pass it across the court. He certainly doesn't look like much at first, and Natsume supposes that this is also part of playing the game, maybe in a slightly different way than normal. He might not be a basketball enthusiast, but he knows that the small boy is nowhere near _normal._

"You think _I _know? I have no clue. He just does it - and most of the time you hardly notice he's there. But, on the other hand…I think they'll be okay now." Natsume fiddles with the camera's strap and turns it on. He figures that he should try to get some shots in, before his senpai yell at him for slacking off.

* * *

- I don't know if I'm going to add any other chapters after this - maybe one at Seirin if I can think of something.

- People tend to get an array of injuries from the thrust or _tsuki_ in kendo, anything from bruises to scraped to skin, sometimes even needing to be sent to the hospital. Fujiwara is able to do kendo because it isn't _that _heavy on the cardiovascular exercise like soccer or basketball, if he takes it easy. He tends to practice on his own time, instead of with the others, for this reason.

- I probably won't be able to explain it in-story, so I'll say it here: Fujiwara didn't want to go to Seirin, but he's there due to paperwork mix ups and his parents getting frazzled. He was supposed to go to a school with a pretty good kendo team, so that he could "slack off" of sorts and wouldn't have to push himself too hard. He got injured because he was too exhausted to react in time.


	4. group shot

**Snapshots**

* * *

Today the Photography Club drags Natsume around campus. They are a tightly woven bundle of nerves twittering in excitement, although Natsume cannot fathom why. A first year carries a tripod and one of their senpai holds the camera in her hands, another carrying a box labeled _banners_. Yet another student holds a clipboard, directing the group towards each room and building that houses a club activity.

Today is the day that the Photography Club takes pictures of each club and sports team for the school yearbook. It's their club that produces the yearbooks, and a lot of design and thought is apparently put into the process. Natsume doesn't really understand that, either, but he goes along with the festivities and partakes in the high strung enthusiasm that overwhelms the group.

Over the years, he has found that this is the easiest solution.

The day is pleasant, if a bit cold, and the wind blows across Tokyo just enough to nip at their noses and fingertips and ears as they hurry from one building to the next. There is nothing exceptionally beautiful about Seirin's campus, only that its architecture is unblemished and shiny, a new school with new equipment.

They enter the kendo hall, all glossy wooden floors filled with a cacophony of strident shouts, of strikes of wood against wood so sharp it sounds as if something has snapped and broken. It takes five minutes just to catch the attention of the captain, even with the whole club crowded around the narrow sidelines, trying to avoid flying bodies and flying shinai.

Natsume sees Fujiwara across the way, still dressed in his uniform and making a noticeable effort to give another first year advice without moving around. Even so, a large grin is spread across his face.

When the captain finally acknowledges the Photography Club's presence, he immediately draws the attention of the other members – eight in total, seven without Fujiwara. As the boys take off their helmets, a few immediately drag Fujiwara over despite his protests that he isn't dressed properly to take a club picture. They hustle him over to the wall, force him to stand still amongst them, and they all smile into the camera after a moment of readjustment.

Laughing at their antics, the Photography Club makes a quick exit before they are caught up in the whirlwind of shinai and charging bodies. It is Natsume who lingers for a moment more, glancing at Fujiwara behind his back, before he hurries to catch up to the others. It isn't his place to confront the boy there. It isn't much of his place to confront him about anything, really, since they are hardly friends.

The basketball club is next, and given their participation in the Winter Cup, most of the members of the Photography Club are pretty excited. Natsume is, too, secretly. Or maybe not so secretly, since he is acting rather enthusiastic about the day's events anyways. Not everyone is a fan of basketball – Japan is more of a baseball country – but it's still exciting, they say, for a high school competition.

They have two big games soon, against two tough schools – one they have lost to before, if Natsume remembers correctly. They must be training hard and it might be rude to interrupt their practice, but that's what they have been doing to every other club today.

The leader of the Photography Club bows apologetically, wearing a quirky smile as she speaks to the coach of the basketball team, a girl Natsume knows is in Fujiwara's class. Fujiwara, in one of his rapid fire, random conversations with him, said that he has seen her scrawl plans and schedules in her notebook during class before, and has seen some of the players stop in to speak to her every now and again.

Aida, the coach of the team, calls her boys away from their practice to take the picture as she deflects the apologies from the Photography Club's head awkwardly.

"It's really no big deal," she says. "It's just a picture. They'll live if they take a two minute break from basketball. It's all they think ever think about, anyways."

The girl mutters darkly underneath her breath, but Natsume can't hear her as she walks away to shoo her players into something that resembles a line. One of the guys that is usually on the bench runs into a side room, presumably the clubroom, and returns with a dog, curiously enough.

Some of the students around him whisper in confusion about the animal, but they don't question it because the puppy is adorable and the girls begin to coo over it. It even wears a small shirt with the school's colors, name, and a number on it. The guy who retrieved it hands it off to a shorter boy with light blue hair – the boy that everyone forgets both on and off the court.

Now that Natsume sees him up close, he realizes that the boy is in his class. He _has_ seen him before and just didn't remember until now. This perplexes Natsume to the extent that one of his friends pokes him in the head to make sure he is still alive.

"Wait, he _is_ on the team, right?" someone mutters.

A second year who hears the comment chuckles and says, "This is Kuroko. He has such a weak presence that everyone forgets about him when he plays. Ehehe, even we forget about him sometimes…but yeah, he's on the team."

"Wait," one of Natsume's friends practically cries out, much to his surprise and irritation. "Even Natsume didn't remember who he was! He really must be invisible…"

"Hm? Why's that surprising?" says one of the basketball players.

Natsume tries to shush his friend, going as far as stomping on his foot to shut him up because he really doesn't need to be advertised like a new camera, but it doesn't deter the boy who blurts, "Natsume-kun has a photographic memory, that's why. He just made a really surprised face before, so that must mean he remembered seeing that invisible guy before!"

"You didn't remember either, and we've all probably seen him in at least one game before," Natsume hisses. His face is warm and undoubtedly blushing.

"But you always remember _everything_. Even when the teacher asks for an answer, you can remember exactly which page and paragraph and line it's from."

The Photography Club's leader glares at them to shut up or continue their conversation elsewhere, and they gather the basketball players to take a picture so that they call all be on their merry ways. Natsume takes the time to quietly berate his friend, letting him know that he will by no means be forgiven easily for this.

They are finishing up after a few failed takes courtesy of the squirming dog, when one of the tallest players, the team's star ace, says, "Wait, so is Kise's weird copy ability a photographic memory?"

Natsume doesn't say anything, even though he immediately knows who the guy (Kagami, he thinks) is referring to. Most people would find it hard to forget the charismatic basketball player and model that the girls always fret about, but Natsume remembers from magazines and ads that are everywhere. He's read a few articles, too.

A soft, surprisingly flat voice corrects the tall player. "I do not believe so Kagami-kun, at least, not to the extent that you are referring to. Kise-kun is not particularly good at studying."

All of their heads turn to the first year, Kuroko, who is still holding the puppy in his arms with an expressionless face. It was a bit strange to hear him speak. It was strange just to notice him at all.

Natsume kind of expects his friend to blurt out something embarrassing again, something like, "_Natsume-kun's the valedictorian!_" Before he can say anything, Natsume is already pushing him from behind, muttering about them having too many clubs to visit for them to get distracted like this.

"Ah, that's right! We have work to do, so um, I'm sorry we took up so much of your time! Thank you for the photos! We'll be sure to get you a copy when we get them printed!" says the Photography Club's leader with a quick bow as she ushers her club away.

It takes a moment for the basketball team to resume practice, with the goal to win the Winter Cup in mind.

* * *

- Thanks for all of the support, those of you who reviewed or faved/alerted this story! Ahaha, really not sure if I will continue after this one. I don't have any other ideas unless someone has a suggestion. I really didn't think it would be this well received.

- I just finished this, so let me know if there are typos (I usually write in past tense so that slips in there like all the time...).

- I guess you can say that I kinda based his character off Kise, which is why I compared the two here. I'm not sure what's up with Kise. xD He has insane recall, but only for physical movements/sports and not for remembering anything he sees. Usually as very young children we all have pretty good eidetic memories (babies absorb things like a sponge, no other way to learn) but this goes away as we get older. Very few will retain it into later childhood (5-9?) and a true eidetic memory is probably not possible (but this is fiction.).

- I dunno what's with Kise. The light novel apparently mentions that he isn't so good at studying.


End file.
